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“What do I want? Isn’t that obvious? I want to ask why an autopsy wasn’t done on—”

“I’m closing the door now. Please don’t disturb me again.”

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“Anna!” Barrie wedged her foot in the door. “I don’t understand. You can’t just call and dump something like that on me and then not—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Barrie was incredulous. “Anna, what’s going on? I don’t get it.”

And then she did. The woman’s beautiful, almond-shaped eyes were filled with terror.

Lowering her voice to a whisper, Barrie said, “Have you been instructed not to speak to me?”

“Please, just go.”

“Did someone warn you against talking to me? Were you threatened? By whom, Anna? Your superiors at the hospital? Someone in the medical examiner’s office? Dr. Allan?” Still keeping her voice low, she said urgently, “You won’t be named as my source. I swear it. Just nod if I’m right. Dr. George Allan ordered the coroner’s office not to perform an autopsy. Did that mandate come from the President himself?”

Again the frightened young woman tried to close the door, which now felt like a vise on Barrie’s instep. “Anna, please tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything. Go away. Leave me alone.”

The Asian woman threw all ninety-five of her pounds against the door. Barrie wisely removed her foot. She was left standing in the hallway, staring at the brass figures on the door designating the apartment as 3C, and wondering just who the hell had muzzled Anna Chen. And why.

* * *

Vanessa Merritt switched off the TV in her private chambers. She’d been channel surfing when she happened to catch Barrie Travis on the WVUE news set. How could the girl be so stupid? Why hadn’t she picked up the hint? But then, in some respects, Vanessa was relieved that she hadn’t.

She didn’t really want her secret exposed, but she didn’t know how long she could stand keeping it to herself. Either way, she was afraid it would kill her.

She poured herself another glass of forbidden wine. To hell with the reprimands from her doctor, her father, and her husband. How could they possibly know what she needed or didn’t need? They couldn’t possibly understand how she had suffered. They were teamed up against her. They…

The thought drifted away before it was completed. That was happening frequently. She couldn’t seem to hold a thought for more than a few seconds before it slipped away.

What had she been thinking about?

The baby, yes. Always. But there was something else.…

When her eyes strayed back to the TV, she remembered. Barrie Travis. The dumb bitch. Did she have to be hit by a two-by-four before she caught on? Why hadn’t she gotten it? Or had she, but was too afraid to act on it. Was she stupid, or was she a coward? Whatever, the result was the same. No help could be expected from that quarter.

Vanessa had thought herself clever to use the reporter as a vessel. The idea had hatched when she’d spotted Barrie at a recent press conference on the east lawn. Wasn’t she the one who’d broken the story of Supreme Court Justice Green’s “death”? Wasn’t it she who’d asked an incredibly dumb question at a press conference that had caused a spontaneous burst of laughter?

Barrie Travis’s poor credibility had made her a perfect choice for Vanessa’s purposes, which was to drop a few hints to an irresponsible reporter, someone who would get the ball rolling, would begin asking questions that seemed outlandish at first, but to which the important players eventually would seek answers. If Vanessa had planted the seeds of her story with one of the network heavyweights, she would have been dangerously exposed. This way, it would get out, but not directly through her.

Or so she had hoped. Obviously, Barrie Travis had been a poor choice. She wasn’t only reckless, she was brainless.

So where could she turn next?

Out of habit, Vanessa reached for her telephone.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hello!” the senator said. “I was going to call you later. How’re you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Quiet evening at home?”